


Routine

by kashmir



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-14
Updated: 2005-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Nathan, everything is a routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fic exchange earlier this year. First, last, only character death fic from me.

He dressed meticulously, wearing his best suit -- the black pin stripe she'd bought for him five years ago. So he would have something to wear when he took her out dancing. She knew full well how much he hated going dancing. Especially while wearing a suit.

A week after she'd come home bearing the garment bag with the department store logo, he'd taken her out for dinner and dancing. The suit had since sat in his closet, until last night when his oldest daughter, Kirsten, had come over and pressed it for him, even laying out a pocket square.

He had a daily routine. Get up, go downstairs, let out Bingo their six-year-old Labrador, grab the paper from the front stoop, start the coffee. Head back upstairs, then a shower and a shave and brush his teeth. From the bathroom it was back into the bedroom to shed his towel, grabbing clean underwear out of the drawer - again thanks to his oldest. Then it was his crisp white shirt, followed by his dress trousers, carefully tuck the shirt in, fasten his pants, slid the black leather belt through the loops -- one notch over from where he usually wore it. He realized he must have lost weight in the past few days.

Next was the tie, Windsor knot, slate gray to match his pocket square. Sit down on the bed, socks, and then shoes, his good black ones he'd spent an hour polishing last night. He picked up his jacket, grabbed his watch, wallet and glass case from the dresser top and headed back downstairs. Let Bingo back in and poured his coffee - black. Sat down and read the paper while absently stroking Bingo's head and sipping his morning beverage.

Fifteen minutes later he was slipping on his suit coat and watch and grabbing his car keys. Out the door, down the steps and into the car. Glasses on, keys in the ignition and... And suddenly it hit him all over again.

She was gone.

Not just out at the store or at work or even visiting her family for the weekend. Gone forever. Taken in a day's time by a heart condition no one had known she had. His first reaction had been anger; at her for not taking better care of herself and for leaving him too soon, the doctors for hot catching it and saving her and at himself. For not taking her dancing more often and for not taking her for granted.

His anger had passed replaced by a gaping hole in his heart, one he suspected would remain until the day he died. He knew, deep in his soul, she hadn't _wanted_ to leave anymore than he'd wanted her to go.

So he got up each day, doing everything routinely, just as he had when she'd been there, trying to stay sane. So far it seemed to be working. Mostly. The part where missing her was a physical pain was what got him. Like it did just then, on the way to her funeral. Kirsten had wanted him to ride with her and her husband but he'd insisted on driving himself.

It was actually the thought of his daughter that made him turn the key and start the car, wiping his eyes. Kirsten and her big pregnant belly and the granddaughter (the one they'd promised to name after his love) he'd have to spoil in two month's time.

He put the car in drive, backed out of the driveway and drove off towards the family church, four blocks away.

Drove off towards his family and the future. Carrying his memories and his wife deep in his heart.


End file.
